Spirit My Heart Away
by Daerwyn
Summary: Dean and Sam get in a scuffle when Sam's possessed, but a young woman who died at the asylum won't stand for violence. Maria helps Dean find the evil doctors bones, but there's a price. Always a price. This is Maria and Dean's story. D/M
1. Chapter 1

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One shot of Dean/OC - Dean's the hottest. Anyway, I saw an episode from Season 1 and this popped into my head and I wrote it down ASAP:) ENJOY!

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A gun went off, and a boy flew through the door and onto the floor. My eyes snapped to his. He was in emense pain, but was not bleeding. The boy that shot him was staring the other down, the gun cocked in his hand.

I acted quickly and without thought. I manifested in front of the hurt boy, my arms out in a protective stance.

"Stop," I whispered. My voice was melodic, but pain filled. My green eyes gazed at the boy in a silent plea. No one else had to be hurt.

"Move, Maria," the younger boy whispered.

"No one had to be hurt anymore," I said in a strangled voice. "You've hurt enough people."

He raised his gun at me. I took a deep breath, tucking a piece of my black, silky hair behind my ear.

"One shot and you will no longer exist," he snarled. I flinched back at the anger in his voice, but otherwise held a strong stance.

"No one will be hurt. Not even spirits," I said softly. I turned and walked towards the boy on the floor. Croutching down, I slided my hand across his forehead. His eyes opened and locked with mine. "Not humans," I continued.

I gave the boy a soft smile. His skin was so warm. I haven't felt warmth in years.

The gun, I could hear it being clicked. My head snapped up and within milliseconds, I was in front of the boy-no man on the floor again. "Stop!" I pleaded. "Please, he's your brother. Just listen, please. You don't want to hurt him. He's your brother. Don't let the spirit control you."

The gun gave a soft boom and I disappeared, reappearing to the side of the room.

The boy on the floor stood up, groaning. "If you want to kill me, at least use this," he said, holding out a pistol.

I knew I shouldn't interfere. It's not in my place. I'm dead. I have been for fifteen years. My twenty year old face, beautiful and rich and exotic face, will always stay the same. But I didn't listen to the reasoning part of my humanity. I materialised next to Dean, the boy that was hurt.

"Giving him the weapon to hurt you, isn't what's right," I breathed in Dean's ear.

Dean didn't hear me, apparently. Or he didn't make a move. I walked over to Sam, who was being controlled.

The pistol was pointed at Dean's head. "Please, don't do this. No one else has to be hurt!"

Sam's eyes flickered to me and then to Dean. My head turned, my hair brushing my arm as it flipped behind my shoulder.

"This doesn't have to happen."

Sam clicked the pistol, but nothing happened. A few more times, it clicked, but Dean was quick. He punched Sam, causing me to wince. A few more punches knocked Sam out cold. I was wringing my hands, looking away.

"No more are to be hurt," I murmured. "No more are to be killed. No more are to be hurt. No more are to be-"

Dean's eyes scanned my face, "What's your name?"

"Maria Santova," I answered softly.

"And what are you doing here?"

"I died here," I said, looking down. "We all did. I commited suicide before the riot started. That's why I still have my looks, at least. I haven't left this room. This is where I died. He was going to experiment on me, but I refused. I-I slit my wrists with his tools. He couldn't save me and I died, just as the others got in here to kill him."

My eyes flickered up to Dean's and I saw surprise. "You died here? I thought you were human."

I gave a smile, "Well, I figured if I was going to be a ghost, I'd try to be the easiest to look at. I don't want people to be afraid of me. I want to protect them."

He walked up to me and I could smell his cologne. So heavenly. I haven't smelt anything pleasant in forever.

"What were you here for?"

"My parents put me in here when I was nineteen, a year before I died, because I was having visions," I shrugged. "The worst decision they ever made, if you ask me. They just wanted me to get better. I understand that now. But then, the last time I spoke to them, I told them I hated them, I'd rather die than have them as parents, and I never saw them after that. No visits. No check ins. Not even a call or letter. I regret it every day and I'll regret it for eternity. They moved shortly after they got news I did. They heard it was suicide, but others - officials said it was a murder due to the riot."

"I'm sorry," Dean said, looking through the room.

"I've grown used to it. I'll never forget them. They're my parents. Do you forget your mother, Dean?"

He froze and looked at me, "How do you know about her?"

"I know a lot about her, Dean. You were four when she died, but you had the brain of a eight year old. You were smarter than most your age. You saved your brother's life the night she died." His eyebrows show up in surprise. "And I know what killed her."

"What was it?" he asked after a moment.

"A yellow eyed demon. It changes forms," I shrugged. "You can never tell who it possesses, but the only thing that can kill them is the Colt."

"The Colt?" he asked, pulling some hospital curtains back.

"You're father knows what I'm talking about," I smiled softly.

"My father?"

"John Winchester, correct?" I asked, suddenly unsure. "I'm sorry if I was mistaken-"

"No, that was his name. John," Dean interrupted.

I nodded, "John knows what the demon is and how to kill it, he just needs to find it now."

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm dead. Spirits know everything," I winked. "What are you looking for?"

"The doc's dead body."

I pointed a shaky finger at the cabinents near the sink. "He's under there."

He pulled the body out, layering it with rock salt.

But I saw him coming. I started to fight him. I kicked and punched as he tried to fight me. The bad man. The bad spirit. The one all the victims of the riots had tried to protect themselves from. I gave a scream as a sharp object was plunged into my stomach. I was bleeding. . . I shouldn't be. I'm dead.

A gun went off and the ghost disappeared. The doctor's body was pulled out of the cabinents and sprawled on the floor. He sprinkled rock salt and then struck a match. The body went up in flames and I tore my eyes away.

"You're bleeding," Dean murmured.

"I shouldn't be," I said confused. My hand disappeared from my stomach and I saw blood flowing steadily out. "I'm dead."

Dean took my arm and pressed his fingers into my wrist lightly.

"You have a pulse," he sighed. "Whatever happened, you're human again."

My eyes flickered to the cabinent next to where the doctor's body was. I walked over shakily and pulled it open. My body. . .

"I'm dead still," I whispered

"Maria," Dean murmured. I turned and he was next to me. "Come on, we can take you to a hospital."

"I don't know if I can leave this place," I panicked. "My body's here. My spirit is here. Will it follow me out the doors or-"

I heard a groan as Sam got up and Dean didn't even glace at him. "Come on. We'll try it. If not, then it was worth a shot."

I gasped in pain, the adrenaline wearing off. "Can you fetch me the coat over there," I murmured, pointing a bloody hand to the hooks that hung behind the door.

He nodded confused and tossed me a coat. I'd rather have a dusty coat than a human hand in my stomach anyday. I stripped a piece off and placed it over the wound, then a few more strips tied around my waist.

"You ready?" Dean asked. I nodded, wincing as he placed his arms around my waist in support. "Sam, get up. We're leaving. Find the couple and meet me at the front door."

"Where are you taking her?" Sam's voice asked from the door.

"To the hospital," he answered quickly. "Get moving!"

Sam's footsteps echoed in the halls. Dean started to move down the halls and I told him where to go so he wouldn't get lost. We met Sam at the front door, where two scared looking people and Sam were at. Sam led them outside. Dean started to walk over the threshold, but my body stopped moving. Tears filled my eyes.

"I'm still dead, Dean," I whispered when he turned around. I looked at the door and tried to step closer. I got to the threshold, but nothing of me would pass it. I held my hand up, to reach for him. The door had an invisible shield over it. My hand connected harder with it and I grew angry. "No! I have a heartbeat!" I cried. My fist connected with the shield and Dean's face contorted into sadness.

He crossed the door and pulled me into his arms.

"Can you tell my parents I'm sorry?" I sobbed into his shoulder.

"Of course," he murmured, tucking a strand of my black silky hair behind my ear. He pulled back from the hug and handed me a piece of paper and a pen. "Write a note to them and I'll give it to them."

I scribbled a quick note and handed it to Dean. "Tatiana and Nicholas santova," I whispered. "Last I heard, they were in the house down the street, but they moved as soon as I died. Find them for me, please."

"I will," he promised. His hand cupped my cheek and I leaned into the warmth.

"And can you do me another favor?" I breathed, our faces inching closer together. His lips touched mine and my eyes fluttered closed. His lips were soft, insistant, but full of passion. He broke off, both of us breathing ragidly.

"Anything," he smiled softly.

"Burn this place. Let us all have a resting place for good. Not live eternity stuck here. Burn this asylum."

Conflicting emotions passed in his eyes, but I kept my hand on his cheek. "Please?"

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you far more," I said gently. "That was my first kiss."

My cheeks flushed at the revelation. His hand rested on my neck and his lips met mine once again. "Then you at least got your second kiss," he chuckled. "Take care of yourself in the afterlife, will ya?"

"I promise to."

Within moments, he was making his way towards the trunk of his car. He tossed a few bottles of alcohol to Sam and a lighter.

"Light it up," I heard Dean say. Sam seemed hesitant but did as asked.

I heard the crashing of glass shattering as the windows broke and the flames erupted. I stayed by the door, my eyes on Dean.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"It's okay," I whispered, hoping he'd hear me. I heard the screams of the ghosts of the other patients. "Take that note to my parents!"

He nodded and tossed the last bottle in his hands, which landed on the floor above me. A lone tear traveled down my cheek as Dean sat against the car, watching. Then I was engulfed in flames and the world no longer held me.

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	2. Chapter 2

Ever since it was opened, ff. net had always been a place for avid fans- of ANYTHING- to feel at home. To express whatever is on our minds and truly let our love for characters, plotlines and scenarios shine through.

Now all of a sudden, FF. net has decided to go through a massive upheaval and remove thousands of stories from its library, some of the best fanfics ever written, gone, never to be read again. They are removing anything involving sexual situations, or violence, or inspired by a song, the list goes on. And we as readers see this as a gross waste of talent and incredible material.

fanfiction .net has always been a place for us writers to 'Unleash our imagination' as the tagline states, and now we are having that right to freedom of speech and expression taken away from us. Since when are they allowed to dictate what goes into our stories? They are OUR pieces of work. What if the violence or sexual content is part of the plotline? This whole situation is absurd. There are better ways to deal with 'inappropriate' content than to remove it altogether. What about adult filters? Age restrictions? There are so many other options!

So I'm asking please, for all us readers, writers, and fans alike... STOP THE DESTRUCTION OF FF .net!

Why can't Fanfiction make an MA rating for writers to use that has the above said age restriction? Sign the petition - link is near the bottom of my profile - and fight for all your favorite stories that have been deleted!

-Nastya Wynde


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